


Ozzy and Pete

by MacLovesLizards



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alcoholism, Friendship, Gangs, Original Story - Freeform, Ozzy and Pete, Punk, Suicide Attempt, read notes at the beginning of chapters for content warnings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 19:09:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10883124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MacLovesLizards/pseuds/MacLovesLizards
Summary: Ozzy leads a seemingly normal life until one day a homeless, suicidal man named Pete Ybarra comes to his doorstep, begging to be killed. Ozzy refuses, and instead takes the man in to help him get back on his feet. As Ozzy leads Pete around, showing him the various joys of life, the two begin to encounter some strange people, many of whom are delinquents. Together, Ozzy and Pete must overcome obstacles, like Ozzy's vengeful rivalry the delinquent, Axel Ross. Or Pete's struggle with alcoholism and general bitterness towards the world. Over all, the two must learn to enjoy life to the fullest, and learn how to put up with each other from time to time. Friendship is weird and life is tough. But friendship always seems to make it more bearable. Or something like that...





	Ozzy and Pete

**Author's Note:**

> Content Warnings:  
> Suicide mention/attempt(?), alcoholism.
> 
> So, since Killer Idol usually takes me really long to write, I decided to start writing this story as well! Over all, Ozzy and Pete is a lot easier to write, since it takes place in modern times and I don't have to worry about writing murder scenes or scenes where people dispose of bodies. Also, there's a lot less shit going on in Ozzy and Pete since there are less characters. I'll probably be writing this when I'm burnt out on KI. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this very fun, very weird story!

The bustling, busy city was awake that night as always. Just because the sun had set, signaling bedtime for many, the city refused to rest. Car horns and the voices of restless souls filled the cool night air and made relaxation a challenge. This city was always on the move. That was for sure. Amongst all this commotion stumbles a short, dirty, scruffy looking man. His skin was a light brown and stained with dirt. His curly, dark brown hair was unkempt and looked as though it hadn’t been properly brushed in months. He wore a tattered brown sweater and sweatpants. His shoes were once nice dress shoes, but were now falling apart. He was beginning to grow a scraggly beard, although it wasn’t quite a beard yet. His droopy eyelids framed exhausted and hopeless brown eyes. He had very few things left in his pockets. None of it was money. What he did have in his pockets, though, he intended on using tonight. He aimlessly stumbles through the city streets, looking for any random house to target. When he finally spots one, he speeds up his pace as best he can. He stands at the doorstep of the humble little house. It was small but well-kept and cozy looking. How he envies whomever lives in this house. None of that will matter to him soon, however. The man knocks on the door a few times with his feeble hand. In only a matter of seconds, a nice looking man answers the door. He had a bright face. His black hair was shaved on either side, but long white hair that reached down to the man’s shoulders covered one shaved side. The man was much taller than he was. The man smiles. He had a weird smile. His mouth looked almost crooked on one side. The two men stare at each other in silence for a moment before the taller one finally gets uncomfortable enough to speak. “Uh…hey! Can I help-…”

“Please kill me!” The shorter man interrupts him. The tall man jumps at the sudden outburst.

“W-What?”

“Please kill me. Here...” The dark skinned man reaches into his pocket and pulls out a switchblade and a note. “Here’s a knife and instructions on how to kill me and get rid of my body. Trust me, no one will notice if I go missing.” The other man stares down at the items before politely refusing them.

“Ssssorry man…I can’t do that.”

“Please! I’m too much of a wimp to do it myself. I just wanna die!” The shorter man begins to cry and the taller one watches on in pity.

“Hey,” he begins softly, “why don’t you come inside? I’m making tea right now and you can have some if you want!” He offers. The smaller man wipes his eyes off and sniffles, looking up to the other’s inviting, dark brown eyes. He thinks it over for a moment and eventually gives in. The white haired man holds the door open for him as he enters. “Don’t mind the mess, I’m gonna clean it up later. Anyway, what’s your name?” The taller man asks.

“Uhh…Pete…Pete Ybarra.” The shorter man informs, rolling his r’s as he says his last name.

“Ooo, neat! Your last name sounds foreign. Come to think of it, you have a bit of an accent, too. Are you from here?” The tall man asks.

“Uh…yeah. But I’m Mexican, so that’s why my last name sounds foreign and I have an accent.” Pete responds.

“Cool! My last name is Ling. But that wasn’t always the case. I’m adopted.” The other man says.

“Oh…well…what’s your first name?”

“Oh! Right! My first name. Duh! Why didn’t I tell you that before? My name is Oscar, but everyone calls me Ozzy.” Ozzy replies as he takes the tea kettle off the stove. Pete doesn’t say anything more, but instead decides to sit down on the couch. Ozzy walks into the living room and sets two teacups on little plates on the table. He then retrieves the kettle and takes a seat next to Pete, who didn’t exactly smell the best, so Ozzy decides to scoot down a little bit further on the couch. Pete doesn’t really care. The taller man pours them both some tea and begins blowing on his to cool it down. Pete takes his cup and looks at his reflection in the dark brown liquid before blowing on it as well, distorting his own face. “So, why did you want me to kill you?” Ozzy asks. Pete takes a sip of his tea before responding.

“My life is pointless. Meaningless. I have nothing left to live for. My fiancée dumped me after I had already spent thousands of dollars on our engagement rings, I was evicted from my home, I lost my job, and I spent all my money on alcohol to numb the pain. Now I’m left with nothing.” The smaller man replies. Ozzy hums as he takes a sip from his tea.

“Hm…that **is** an issue…”

“No kidding…”

“Well, you seem like a nice enough person. You wanna stay with me until you get back on your feet?” Ozzy offers. Pete’s eyes widen and he nearly chokes on his tea.

“What? You just met me!”

“Well, yeah, but I like you! I think we’d get along pretty well. Whaddya say?” Ozzy gives him a friendly grin. Pete shakes his head.

“I’ve already given up. Living with you won’t get rid of this pain I feel inside me.”

“It might! I’m a pretty fun guy, I think. And I can always convince my parents to give you a job at the antique shop where I work.” Pete sighs.

“Listen, Ozzy. I appreciate it, but there’s only one thing I wanna do right now, and you know what that is. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go find someone who **will** kill me.” The shorter man claims, as he rises to his feet. “Thanks for the tea.” As he heads for the door, however, Ozzy quickly rushes to block it.

“Come on, now, Pete. I’m sure we can work something out. Just give yourself a chance.” The taller man reasons. Now Pete was starting to get annoyed. He lowers his brow.

“I already told you, there’s nothing you can do to help me.”

“Pete, I understand you’re really upset. I know what it’s like to lose somebody you love. But trust me, things do get better. There’s just so many people and so many things out there to experience. You look really young. Like, **really** young. How old are you?”

“Twenty-one.”

“Twenty-one?! That’s **definitely** too short of a life!”

“Life is short anyway. It’s short and it has no meaning.”

“That’s why you **make** a meaning! My meaning in life is to do as many of the things that I love as possible! Yoga, dancing, swimming, travelling, stargazing, singing…” Ozzy begins to trail off before catching himself. “Anyway. These feelings will pass, Pete. And feeling something is better than feeling nothing at all.”

“I would disagree with that. Besides, I don’t know how to make a meaning for my life.” Pete says sullenly.

“Then I’ll show you! It’s not as hard as you think. All you have to do is find **something** , even something little, to live for.” The smaller man shakes his head.

“I’m assuming you’ve never lost everything before.” Ozzy chuckles nervously.

“Well, no…but I do know what it’s like to feel hopeless. Maybe not to your extent, but I’ve felt it nonetheless. I promise you that it gets better. And you can vent to me all you want about what happened to you! I promise to keep it between us.” The taller man continues to try and persuade the other, who was beginning to reconsider. Maybe this guy was worth giving a chance. He did seem to be an expert on living life to the fullest, after all. Finally, after a moment of silent consideration, Pete sighs and looks up to Ozzy.

“Fine. I guess I’ll give you a chance.”

“Great! Let’s-…”

“But if you can’t cheer me up at all within the next month or so, I’m leaving.” Pete interrupts. Ozzy laughs.

“That shouldn’t be a problem! I’m an expert picker-upper!” The tall man brags. “First thing’s first, why don’t you take a shower? I’ll wash your clothes, too.”

“What am I supposed to wear when I get out?”

“I’ll let you borrow something! Come on, the shower’s over this way.” Ozzy leads Pete to the bathroom in the hallway. “Just take your time! I’ll get you something to wear, hold on.” He swiftly makes his way into his room, which was a little further down the hall and adjacent to the bathroom. Pete stands in the bathroom and looks at himself in the mirror. Disgusting. He looked absolutely disgusting. He tries to remember a time when he actually looked decent, but struggles to do so. It isn’t long before Ozzy comes rushing back out. “Here’s the biggest shirt I have. How much of you will this cover?” Ozzy holds the shirt up to Pete. “Wow! That’s a lot! I think you’ll be fine wearing just this until your clothes are washed. Anyway, just leave your clothes outside the door and I’ll pick them up and put them in the wash. Oh! Also! I have a spare toothbrush in here, too that you can use. And you can use my razor if you want.” Pete nods, and Ozzy begins searching around in his drawer until he finds the spare toothbrush, and with that, Ozzy dashes back into the living room to give him some privacy. The smaller man undresses and places everything outside before warming up the water. He missed being able to take proper showers. He can’t remember the last time he had one. As he stands in the shower and watches all the nasty dirt wash down the drain, he begins to feel something good for a change. He actually felt a smidgen of hope for the first time in the two years he had been homeless. These feelings weren’t strong enough to make him smile, but they definitely lifted his spirits even the slightest bit.

 

Pete exits the shower and slips on the shirt Ozzy had given him. It was definitely big on him. That was for sure. The shirt was black and looked to be some kind of band shirt. The words read, “Vonnit,” in green letters written in a strange, jagged font. Pete then brushes his teeth and shaves before he wanders into the living room, looking for the other man. He was nowhere to be seen. _“Man, this would be a perfect time to escape if I weren’t half naked.”_ He thinks to himself. Just then, a sudden perky voice from behind him makes him jump.

“Hey, Pete! Your stuff is in the washing machine- oh, sorry. Did I scare you?”

“Yeah, a little.” The smaller man seemed a tad bit annoyed.

“Sorry about that. I can be a little loud sometimes, heh.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” Pete says bitterly as he goes back to sit down on the couch.

“Um…” Ozzy begins, not exactly thrilled about Pete sitting on his couch with no underwear on. However, he had already sat down by then. Pete looks up to the man.

“What?”

“Nnnnever mind, eheh…” The taller man laughs it off, although still a little unhappy. To add insult to injury, Pete then props his feet up on the coffee table. Ozzy didn’t have the heart to tell him to stop, however. At least he was clean now, he reasons with himself. “If you wanna watch TV, the remote is on the arm of the couch.” Ozzy informs. Pete reaches over and switches the TV on.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to actually watch something other than sports in bars.” The smaller man comments. “I wonder if anything I used to watch is still on.” He switches the TV over to one of the Spanish channels. Ozzy decides to take a seat next to him. The show looked to be one of those reality television shows. He had no idea what anyone was saying, but tries his best to understand just by the imagery. “Ha ha. Stupid.” Pete laughs all of a sudden, making Ozzy smile, despite not knowing what he was laughing about. For all he knew, Pete could be laughing at a death threat, but Ozzy didn’t really mind. Occasionally, there would be times where the girls on the show would get into physical fights, and Pete would begin laughing at that as well. Ozzy didn’t exactly find this kind of humor funny, which is why he tended to steer clear of reality TV shows. However, if Pete was happy, he was happy. For now at least. That might change later, he thinks. The smaller man did seem to be a little more on the rude side, and Ozzy was beginning to feel like this might have been a mistake. When it cuts to a commercial, Ozzy turns to the other man.

“Do you always watch the Spanish channels?” He asks curiously. Pete seems to be offended by this question.

“No. Just because I’m Mexican doesn’t mean that I watch the Spanish channels all the time.”

“Oh! No, no, no! That’s not what I meant by it! I-I meant…like…” The taller man frantically tries to explain himself, only just now realizing the implications behind his words. Pete sighs.

“It’s fine. I’ve been asked more offensive questions before.” Ozzy rubs the back of his neck nervously.

 _“This isn’t going as well as I had hoped.”_ He thinks to himself, beginning to feel rather discouraged. He didn’t want to kick the other man out, but he was starting to feel that he might have to if he didn’t improve his attitude in the next few days. _“He’s just a little broken.”_ Ozzy reasons with himself. _“I’m sure he’ll improve eventually…maybe.”_

 

After a little while longer, Pete’s clothes are finally washed and dried. He puts them all on once again and nervously looks away from the other man. “Uh…thanks.” He says in the sincerest way he can at the moment. Ozzy smiles.

“No problem! We can go and get you some more clothes tomorrow!”

“Listen…you don’t have to-…”

“Nonsense! I won’t take no for an answer!” Ozzy chimes. “You can’t just wear **that** all the time, you’ll get really dirty again.” Pete sighs. He was right. These clothes were rather tattered, after all. Besides, his shoes were on the brink of being useless. He could use an upgrade.

“Alright.” The shorter man finally gives in. He still wasn’t keen on the idea of being alive at the moment, but he figures he could run away after getting new clothes if he ever wanted to. He would feel a little bad taking advantage of the other man, but reckons that none of that would matter after he was dead.

“Oh! I forgot to ask you if you were hungry. Are you? I’d imagine you are.” Ozzy asks. Pete nods, but considers turning him down, realizing that dying of starvation would also be an option. Why didn’t he think of that sooner? However, he had already said yes, so what was the point? He hated wasting food. That was one of his biggest pet peeves is when people throw away large amounts of food. Ozzy rushes into the kitchen.

“I already made dinner for myself a while ago and ate all of it. Sorry about that. But I still have a good bit of food!” He opens a cabinet. “I have ramen noodles, bread, peanut butter for sandwiches, lots of soup, ravioli, corn, beans, all kinds of chips, macaroni…” He continues naming things until he migrates over to the fridge. “In here I have jelly, milk, cheese, lettuce, mustard, ketchup, butter, chocolate sauce, pineapple, steak sauce, orange juice, bologna, ham, turkey…” He goes on until he finally reaches the refrigerator. “In here I have ice cream, frozen pizzas, frozen shrimp, french fries, steak…” After he’s finally done naming everything, he takes an exhausted breath. “Phew! So…anything sound good to you?” Pete remains silent for a moment, trying to remember everything the other had named off.

“Uh…I guess I’ll just make myself a sandwich or something.” Pete says.

“I can make it for you! Just tell me what you want.” Ozzy offers. Pete shakes his head.

“I’d rather make it myself. I don’t like other people touching my food.” The smaller man claims. Ozzy nods.

“Alright! Just put everything back when you’re done!” With that, he bolts out of the kitchen and goes back to sit on the couch. Pete could see him through a little window area in the kitchen. The kitchen was rather small, and the dining room was even smaller. It consisted of a small table with four chairs rather tightly packed together. This place reminded him of a tiny apartment somewhere in the city. This place wasn’t exactly suburban, but it was more so than any place he had ever lived. Pete retrieves the ham, mustard, bread, and lettuce and constructs a decent looking sandwich. He also puts a few chips on a plate before grabbing a can of soda that was in the door of the fridge. He takes everything to the coffee table in the living room and begins eating. He notices Ozzy had changed the channel to some kind of cartoon channel. Pete thought it strange that a grown man was still watching cartoons. But it’s not like these cartoons were meant for really little kids. They were more aimed at the teen demographic, so he didn’t mind. Some of it was funny. Pete had no problem with burping out loud. Ozzy seemed to find it more funny than annoying, often rating them on a scale of 1 to 10. Pete also finds this a little humorous and smiles slightly every time.

 

The two men spend another two hours or so watching television before Pete’s naturally droopy eyes begin to droop even more. Ozzy notices and stands up. The smaller man watches as he leaves and flops his head down on the couch tiredly. The taller man then returns with a pillow and a blanket. Pete grabs the items and places the pillow under his head and curls up under the soft, fluffy blanket. Ozzy smiles as he watches the man begin to drift off. Pete’s eyelids finally shut as he lets the quiet drone of the television lull him to sleep. That’s when Ozzy turns out the lights and goes to retire to his room. He sits on his bed and picks up a leather bound journal. He opens it and flips to a clean page. He then picks up his pen and begins writing about his day; Pete in particular. After he’s finished writing, he exhales a tired breath and strips down to his underwear to get more comfortable. He reaches over and shuts off his lamp, laying silently in the dark with only the glow of city lights gently spilling in from his uncovered window. He lays awake for a while, still thinking about what he’s gotten himself into. He worries that he may have to kick the other man out, or worse, he runs off while he sleeps. Even with his thoughts rushing around in his head, Ozzy finally manages to shut his eyes and fall asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I know the formula for this story is a little bit different from Killer Idol, but trust me, it gets pretty similar at times. Over all this story is a lot more cheerful and strange. These guys get into weird antics and hijinks ensue. There isn't nearly as much death and Ozzy really keeps the story positive. Yes, there will still be depressing moments, but there's more humor in this than in KI. I'm really excited to introduce the rest of the weirdos in this story. I hope you guys like them! Anyway, thank you homies for reading!


End file.
